“A shop? What kind of shop?”
“A draper’s.”
“A draper’s? Isn’t that where they sell things for women to wear? What kind of a man is he who is in a shop in which they sell things for women to cover their bodies? Is it his life which he lives there? But, after all, that is the kind of lover one would have supposed she would have had. It is he who must obey.” I felt that she was hard on Pollie, and on Mr. Cooper. It seemed to be her way to be hard on everyone. “But you—why have you no lover?”
I really did not know what to answer. It was such a difficult question, to say nothing of its delicacy. Of course I had had lovers, of a sort. One need not give a list, but there had been incidents. At the same time it was not easy to enter into particulars, at a moment’s notice, to a perfect stranger, under such conditions as obtained just then.
“I hardly know what to say to you. I suppose I am not too old to have one yet.”
It was a silly remark to make. But it was either that or silence. And she did not seem to like me not to answer her.
“One should have a lover when one is still a little young.”
“What’s your idea of a little young? Are you inferring that I’m a trifle old?”
“The day passes; a lover should come in the morning; when the sun is just lighting the sky.”
There was an air of superiority about her which I did not altogether relish. She might be somebody wonderful, and I was quite willing to admit that she was; but one does not care to be snubbed. So far as I could see she was snubbing me all the time. So I asked her a question in my turn.
“You speak as if you had had a great deal of experience. May I ask if you have a lover?”
“Can you not see it in my eyes?”
